I've been a Giants fan for decades. I feel blessed, having seen them win three Super Bowls since 1986, while so many teams, some of them very talented, have never even made it to the big game. I expected this year's squad to win six games at most, and here they are one win away from another appearance on football's biggest stage. After exhibiting mediocrity most of the season, suddenly they are firing on all cylinders, turning 20 yard passes into long touchdowns, completing Hail Marys, and improving defensively to an astonishing level, light years from their ineptitude in November. Kudos to Coach Coughlin and Coach Fewell, both of whom were hammered by the fans and press just weeks ago.
Worlds collided today at the floating bookshop, as Viktor the Ukrainian and Political Man arrived at the same time from different directions. I was so happy to have a buffer for PM's rant. Viktor told a joke he has translated from Russian: A communist walks into a restaurant and asks the bartender: "How much for a drop of water?" "Free," he's told. He smiles and says: "Give me a glass full of drops of water."
As Political Man was telling me about the CDs he's ordering, most of them oldies from the 50's and 60's, he mentioned Shep and the Limelights, whose biggest hit was Daddy's Home in 1961. James Sheppard, who wrote it and sang lead, was sued for copyright infringement by the owners of "A Thousand Miles Away," which Sheppard also wrote and signed over rights to. According to PM, that company was eventually taken over by the mob, and when Tommy James threatened to sue for royalties, he was taught a lesson by a thug, who shot Sheppard right in front of James' eyes. According to Wiki, Sheppard was found dead, beaten and robbed, in a car on the L.I.E. in 1970, an unsolved crime. I suspect myth and fact have combined over the years to create what is termed urban legend.
A strange dream woke me from my nap. I was standing on the landing in front of the old house on Bay 37th - fishing! I hooked a huge Striped Bass, which my buddies and me used to fish for as teenagers, just before sunrise in the shadow of the Verrazano Bridge. Having read Freud's Interpretation of Dreams years ago, I always hearken to his main thesis whenever I happen to remember a dream - that they are wish fulfillment. In this case, it wasn't hard to deduce that the dream referred to the floating bookshop, where I hope to hook customers, as I did again this afternoon, with three buying children's books in bulk. One paid me with a silver dollar. Thanks folks, and also to the 84-year-old vet, who donated another batch of books, and to Marie, who gave me a bunch of DVDs, including a Howdy Doody Christmas, in which Bob Rubenstein may be interested, as the third book in his trilogy is tentatively titled Howdy Doody and the Atomic Bomb.
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